Back in Ireland: family and friends

I've been so lucky to get to spend so much time in Ireland this year. I just spent three weeks at home, and had so many catch ups with old friends (some visiting from literally the other side of the world), and lots of special family events.

I'm determined to make more of an effort to be present at special events; I've been away for too long.

Iceland

For the Summer solstice, Leo and I took a trip to Iceland. We drove a lot, up and down the West side of Iceland, and saw some incredible things. We also got to spend their independence day there and enjoy the chaos that was Iceland winning a major football match (the men's team, the women's team of course has been doing this for a long time ;) ). Ireland won on the same day, so that was really nice.

The architecture of the houses and churches, the endlessly changing landscapes, the people, the limitless hot water and swimming pools, Iceland is without a doubt one of my favourite places.

[This is a glacier on top of a volcano. We drove up to it and just stood, staring]

On the Go

I move around a lot. A few days a week, in Durham, where I have my 'own' place (and I love it), with all my bedding, most of my clothes, my own herbs and spices in the cupboard, and a stock pile of apple cider vinegar (not joking).

It used to bother me a lot, moving around so much. The day before I'd get a 'here we go again' sinking feeling and I wouldn't be able to live in the moment and just enjoy the experience of being where I was. Not looking to the past or anticipating an imagined future has been a really hard skill to develop, but I'm sort-of getting there.

Mostly it's just learned behaviour. What we repeatedly do, we become. Every five or six days, I take a plane and arrive in my new home, either at midday or at midnight. I spend a few days there, embrace whatever's going on there, then head off again. No mess, no fuss. To be honest, it took a few years to get comfortable with moving around so much. But I got there in the end.

The things I have learned so far:

Have less things

Having way less stuff means less stuff to lug around with you, less stuff to keep organised, less stuff to clutter your line of vision and make you miserable, less stuff to maintain (servicing the 'stuff' is a big part of many peoples' lives, they just don't know it)

Learn what works for you

What will make your travel and hometime your most efficient self? Learn through trial and error, and do that. I've got the timings of my train and plane down, a backpack for laptop and shoulder bag for clothes, and two simultaneous sets of cards, keys and life-admin things carefully managed so it's all where I need it when I need it. No sweat.

Don't have a lot of different types of clothes

I know 'capsule wardrobes' are a huge thing right now, and that's cool. But the logic of having less clothes, and having clothes that go with all your other clothes, is just sound logic. I think people can become a bit of a slave to the capsule wardrobe-anticipating the changeover, documenting it etc. The idea for me is to have a setup where I can think as little as possible about the clothes I will wear but know they are all adequate. 

Learn to take comfort in the simple things

You know what's beautiful? A fresh bunch of flowers, or a houseplant that requires minimal water (heathers are indestructible), a nice smell of essential oils and a cup of tea. I painted my walls white and just walking into my bright room makes me smile. Those are the things that keep you feeling ok.

Make the most of wherever you are

When I'm in Durham, there's not a lot to do I'm interested in, but there's a great folk music community, so I go to a lot of sessions. Not only am I learning loads of new tunes, but I'm meeting great people. I went to a session in someone's house last week and it was amazing-good tunes, great snacks, and a glass of Scotch to finish! Wherever you are, embrace it. Don't think of what might be or what you're missing somewhere else.

Happy Birthday Leo

My best friend in the whole world turned 30 last Wednesday. To mark the special occasion we went on a short break to France. One night in Nice, then a local bus to a beautiful old town called Vence. Sitting in the spa, reading, doing squat jumps, eating delicious local food, and generally having the most relaxing time in our gorgeous hotel and the town. It's rare that I feel sad after leaving a place, but I do miss it now. Leo doesn't care so much about birthdays, but I tried to make it enjoyable for him, and I hope it was memorable.

Good night's sleep

Unfortunately, our house is not entirely sound-proof. I have two housemates, two lovely sentient beings with their own worlds and lives. With the lack of sound insulation between rooms, simple things like Skype conversations or having friends over can really affect my sleep. With a poor night's rest comes grogginess, feeling unhappy the next day, as well as feelings of resentment, even though it may not be entirely the other person's fault. I try minimise these things, for obvious reasons.

Furthermore, traffic, drunk people, disrespectful workmen (07:30!) and just living beside a busy main road and the through-way to the train station means there is a lot of noise to deal with. I am a very light sleeper, wake often in the night, and thus any external disruptions can really wreak havoc with my day-after.

I much prefer to sleep in cool, silent, relatively dark places, so I have started employing some tools to get me the quiet rest I love and need. I'm learning how important it is to be able to insulate yourself, give yourself the things you need to be able to just get on, and be happy in your own space. 

That's where my little friends here come in. The eye mask is one from Muji Leo actually sent me when I was still living in Ireland and he had moved to England, going on five years ago. It's still going strong, even if the elastic is fraying a bit. The earplugs were well reviewed on Amazon. With this arsenal of sensory-deprivation tools, I am on track to a good night's sleep.

Sweet dreams, Ese.

Getting up early

I cannot get up early. I always stay up late, scrolling through Instagram, Whatsapping Leo, feeding my Neko Atsume cat friends, whatever it takes. I'm trying to break the last major bad habit I have, getting up, consistently, sometime between 09.00 and 10.00. I know it's ridiculous and not sustainable because before I know it I will have a job where an early rise will be essential, and I just wont be able to survive. Plus, I love the idea of being an 'early riser'. 

So here I am, committed to the cause. I was up, breakfasted and away to my work long before 09.00 this morning and it felt fantastic. I'm mostly writing this here so that if I don't stick to the schedule I'll have a public indication of my failure, and nobody wants that. I'm making a promise; to get up early and to be an early riser. I know it's easier when it's Spring and the sun is shining and you have this to look up at as you sit at your desk. But habits are formed of many small steps. Let's make it happen.

Wish me luck!

Pictures of things

My windowsill, with the Christmas plant that will not die, and Dublin, when we went for a long walk on the beach yesterday.

In between places

I'm getting into a rhythm of sorts. Monday morning, Halo taxi at 08:00, to the airport. Back in Durham by lunchtime. Unpack, do some work. Buy milk. Take a nap. Some sort of reverse culture shock because even though they're so close, they're so different. 

Living in between two places feels weird. Leo's life in Dublin is really starting to take form, and our house is so cosy there. But I really love my place in Durham too, and my life there is uncomplicated. I know what's expected of me. Given the choice I'd obviously rather be in Dublin, for now there is no alternative. So I travel back and forth, a fortnight here, a weekend there, whenever I can for as long as I can. 

I'm a very impatient person, but I'm trying my best.

 

Some things are eternally comforting. Like coming home to your own bathroom cabinet. Post on the table waiting. Doing laundry. Stocking the fridge with foods of your own choosing. The things we do to make the absences feel a little less.

Happy birthday, William Morris

My Socialist, radical, furniture-loving hero.

Farvel til København

Maybe it's fitting that it's Spring, the days are getting brighter, and I have an itch to sort through my ever-dwindling collection of possessions and do a tidy and a clean up. It's been obvious to me for months, since Leo finally handed in his notice and moved, that our life in Copenhagen had reached a natural climax. That being said, I dawdled for months and months and always tried to picture myself going back there to live. 

But naturally, our time in Copenhagen has reached it's conclusion and Leo has in fact moved back to Dublin, while I have an excruciating 1.5 years of PhD left before I can join him (don't get me wrong, I am overjoyed to be doing the PhD, but I am so tired of living in a temporary-home). I've just returned to Durham from Copenhagen, where we finally (FINALLY!!!) packed up all our kitchen stuff, Leo's dozens of work shirts, boxes of cards and letters and memories, and the furniture. 

We spent those last few days catching up with lovely people we might not see for a while, doing a bit of shopping (I lost a scarf this winter that was my favourite one, and needed a replacement), sitting in the same cafe for hours on end, and spending our last night in a Jazz-filled bodega, from which my clothes ended up smelling like an ash tray. 

It was a surreal few days and they went by far too quickly. Now it's back to work, and back to Ireland as well for Easter. It was lovely to live in Copenhagen, and our apartment was cosy and full of fond memories. But sometimes things just come to an end, and that's quite alright. It's onwards to bigger and bolder things, and the most important thing is that Leo and I are journeying together.

Lately

Life, as always, is busy. Fieldwork and teaching obligations are going very well. I'm coming to the end of my tutoring for the year, and am unsure if I'll keep it up next year (as it's very time consuming). I'll be sad when I finish up with my fieldwork as I've met so many wonderful people, but at the same time, I am keenly aware of how much data will need to be analysed by May (when it will be 12 months since I began).

I am going back and forth to Ireland more and more these days, as Leo is there working and we find that life is nicer when we see each other a lot. So I've been going over some weekends, and he comes here some weekends, and it's generally lovely. 

On Saturday we got up really early and did a tidy out of the bits and pieces of life, then we met my aunt and uncle at Avoca and went to a garden centre where we got lots and lots of plants. I also voted in our General Election, and we spent the entire weekend with the radio on listening to the results.

It is so nice to be home. To feel a part of where you are. To feel like you have something in common with the people around you. They are more like you than anyone else in the world. 

In other news: I go to the gym a lot more and lift weights, and I finally got some whistles that don't just play D and G Major (although the low whistle does).

Being busy and being honest with yourself

I am a busy person. Sometimes I am 'busy', i.e. making extra work for myself, having two links in the chain when one will do, that sort of thing. But there's no denying that, objectively, I am busy. A PhD, a huge part of which means spending two hours of buses two to three days a week, is always going to take a lot of time. The bus journeys destroy me because they are a) time consuming b) make me feel incredibly travel sick, ruining my chances for acting like a wholly normal person on those days c) wasted time (you can't write, use a laptop, do useful things on the bus).

I am trying to be less busy. I resigned from the admin job I had for my supervisor. I appreciated the extra income, but the stress of being the recipient of endless numbers of emails was too much for me. I am trying to prioritise. But this is difficult. I signed up to do a fair bit of teaching, and that simply doesn't stop. The dates are in the diary, the times are fixed, the bus journeys obligatory. I guess, next year I might take a break from teaching.

I also play in a ceilidh band. This is immensely fun, and I love the banter, the actual playing, and everything that goes along with it. However, through this I got roped into being the President of the society the band is a part of. Again, endless emails, organising room bookings and so on and so on. So I resigned, because the list was endless. The band also play late at night, and I often don't get home until well after midnight, buzzing with adrenaline. You can see why this is a problem.

I am a PhD student, and yet my diary is full, all of the time, with things and things and more things. Emails come hard and fast. I delete 70% of them, but those 30% require a response, no matter how short. I suppose it comes with the territory, but being the in-between of student and staff is difficult, because you are surrounded by people who's time is fluid, spills over into weekends and evenings, and for whom 'having so much work to do' is somehow an accepted norm. 

I want to have several days a week with nothing in my diary. That's the goal. To switch off the emails, have a list of tasks to work through, read whole books, write the dissertation that needs to be written, On top of that, Leo lives in Ireland now, so that means flying back and forth to see him, spending hours on the phone every week talking and keeping the dream alive. I love it, but it is sometimes very hard work.

So, I'm almost forgetting why I wrote this, because really it's just reminding me how much I have still to do and further stressing me out. But, I suppose, the reason I wrote this was to remind myself that, yes, I have a lot of stuff that clogs up my head, makes me feel overwhelmed, busy, tired and stressed. The end goal is to write a PhD, and move back to Ireland. That's it. Do the PhD, finish in good time, enjoy it, learn a lot, and then progress to a worthwhile and productive job (hopefully!), in the country I come from (finally!), with my favourite guy (yay!). 

I'm just going to leave this here, and come back to it when I'm feeling overwhelmed, and remind myself of what the task at hand really is. It's not to make lots of new friends and integrate super well into the University life here (although friends are nice and I amn't a hermit), and it's not to run student societies (I'm not really a student, and I'm 27 anyway), and it's certainly not to get bogged down in teaching, admin, non-essential tasks etc. It's to research for and write a PhD dissertation. 

And, I guess, to go on as many holidays and breaks as I can fit in (sunshine!), and to take care of my health and wellbeing (which 100% includes drinking lots of tea in my cosy room watching Pretty Little Liars with the jar of fairy lights on the table next to me. Obv). 

Nollaig na mBan

Today, 6th January, marks Nollaig na mBan, 'little Christmas' or 'Women's Christmas'. I'm not really one to bask in a holiday embedded in outmoded gender roles, but the idea comes from the fact that women, who do basically all household and domestic work, should take today off, while their men-folk do the housework for the day. It's also the day when the Christmas decorations are taken down, so sadly the wreath will be coming off the door and the coloured strings of lights will be put away for another year (or at least until it gets dark and they offer some hygge).

Here's an article on the history of the tradition in Ireland. 

I have, as you can tell, conflicted feelings about the day. I love celebrating the work women do and the things we contribute to society (life being the primary one I'm thinking of), but the idea of celebrating your right to take a day off from domestic work makes me ill at ease - women shouldn't have to wait until today, when weeks of hard work have taken their toll, to have a rest. 

That being said, I suppose I'll make the most of the day, and eat a slice of cake on behalf of womenkind everywhere. Cheers to that!

Here's to 2015

Since it's after midnight already it's technically New Years Eve, which means that a reflective end-of-year post is quite appropriate. Hopefully tomorrow night will be a little nicer than it is right now, the rain is pelting down and we were hoping to get some champagne and celebrate somewhere in town.

This year, quite frankly, has been one of the most straight-forward and enjoyable years of my life. It started off on a pleasant note, dinner and fireworks along the riverside in Copenhagen, a plane to Iceland late at night on the 1st, the Aurora and seeing the volcano from the plane. 

The year has more or less been incredibly straight forward. My work has gone better than I could ever have hoped for, I am making huge progress with my writing and managed to speak at a number of conferences and seminars. I have just sent off my first journal article for review and have conducted a lot of fieldwork.

The other parts of my life, too, are falling into place. Leo has moved to Dublin and is creating a home for us there, he has a good job and I hope to spend more time there. There are cheap flights from Newcastle to be had and many weekend and longer trips to enjoy in the coming weeks. Overall, everything is good.

As I look back on 2015, I can't help but feel incredibly warm and happy. Everything has fallen into place just like it should. Looking to next year, I have many goals and hopes, but generally, nothing groundbreaking. I don't want to turn my world upside down, or radically re-invent some part of myself. I just want to continue being me, being comfortable, embracing the hygge, learning more things, and being better. 

Here's to 2015, and to 2016, and to no bad days :)

This picture: many cups of tea and a stack of books, represents my life over this Christmas period

An unexpected snow day in Durham

One day, shortly before Christmas, Durham found itself covered in a blanket of snow. It came billowing down all morning and afternoon, transforming the town into a Dickensian novel. I found it heart-lightening to don warm boots and a raincoat and walk through the town taking snaps. There's nothing quite as nice as sitting in your bedroom with a cup of tea warming your hands, watching thick, powdery puffs of snow come falling down.

By evening it had been washed away by rain, as if it had never existed. 

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

So, it's Stephen's night. I am in my comfiest clothes (leggings, fluffy socks and an oversized jumper, if you were wondering), and I am home alone, with a selection box, Pukka tea, a gorgeously scented Muji candle, and...myself. I know Christmas is a time for family, but I am savouring this evening, just for me to enjoy. 

The last few weeks...months, really...have been incredibly hectic. Even Christmas wasn't so much of a reprieve, although I can't complain: I haven't done any work in 3 days and I stayed indoors for about 35 hours straight, something I basically never do. That being said, I cooked Christmas dinner (with help from my brother), and tomorrow I'm travelling to England to spend the time until the New Year with Leo and his mom.

It's nice to be able to take the time to be alone (as I keep saying, if my recent posts are anything to go by), but it takes a certain inner strength and determination to be alone the evening after Christmas. To be honest, I am a little lonely (we had lunch at my aunt's and it was simply the most convenient thing to get dropped back here for heading to the airport). But I know that I've had a very hyggeligt few days, and tomorrow I will be back in Durham with fairy lights and lovely food and movies and company.

Below are a selection of Christmassy snaps: all the Christmas trees I've had the pleasure of hanging out with in particular.

I feel very lucky to live the life that I do. I think we should all try to feel lucky.